


Good Morning

by IBK



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Cute Ending, Dutch is a good dad, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBK/pseuds/IBK
Summary: The morning is the best time of the day so many beautiful things can happen all you need to do is wake up.





	Good Morning

The dawn's early light lit the camp up like a lantern in the night, bringing in a soothing warmth that would keep anyone in bed. Sleeping soundly in his bed was Arthur Morgan who had just celebrated his seventh birthday the night before and had no intention of waking up early. With his blanket brought up to his nose, Arthur was curled up and soaking in the morning heat. 

Arthur had a rather long night, the longest he had ever stayed awake; without anyone knowing anyway. From dancing and singing, Arthur couldn't wipe the smile off his face even if you slapped him; which Micah tried when Dutch was giving Arthur his birthday bumps. Both Dutch and Hosea wore proud grins, as their little boy was slowly becoming a man before their eyes, and Arthur could have sworn he spotted Dutch rubbing his eye during the celebration. 

Even after being called "A Man", Miss Grimshaw kept her eye on the time and when the clock hit midnight, Arthur was marched to bed like a prisoner to his cell. Unable to whine or protest fearing he'd loss his new title, Arthur did as he was told, but as soon as she closed the entrance flap, Arthur was sitting up in his bed listening to the songs and tales of old. He wasn't sure how long he was up for, but anytime a shadow passed his tent, Arthur would hide under his blanket and stay perfectly still still the passerbyer had left. 

As he slept soundly, Dutch had quietly peeled the flap entrance back and poked his head in to look at his sleeping son. A proud grin appeared across his lips when the sunlight hit Arthur's face making the child groan and fidget. Annoyed by the bright sun disturbing his slumber, Arthur used his blanket to cover his face, as Dutch chuckled soundly.

"Come on, son it's time to get up."

It's...too early, Dutch," Arthur mumbled from under his blanket. "Go away."

"Hey now," Dutch grumbled, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the entrance post. "Are you sassing me, young man?"

"No," Arthur grumbled, still hiding himself under his blanket. "I'm not sassing."

Shaking his head, Dutch carefully grabbed a corner of Arthur's blanket and gave it a tiny tug. Not pulling too hard, Dutch was able to reveal Arthur's tired face. The boy's face shriveled up like he ate a lemon when the light hit his face.

He whined, "Dutch!"

Arthur flipped himself over and fell face first into his pillow groaning loudly. 

"It sounds like you're sassing me, boy," Dutch stated in a deep tone, as he tugged at the blanket again only a little harder. "Now come on, breakfast is getting cold."

With his face in the pillow, Arthur muffled and groaned, as Dutch yanked the blanket off of the boy. Irritated, Arthur growled and turned to his side and threw a terrible glare at Dutch before throwing his face back into the pillow.

Exhaling from his nose, Dutch walked up to the boy's bedside and raised his hand, "Last chance son."

Arthur let out a huff, as he buried his face deeper and deeper into his pillow. Without a word, Dutch brought his heavy hand down on Arthur's backside causing the boy to yelp and jump from his bed.

"Dutch!" Arthur squealed, as he layed on the floor while he rubbed his assaulted cheek.

"Good your awake," Dutch sneered, as he chuckled at Arthur's look of shock and embarrassment. "Now, get your butt outside and go eat your breakfast."

Arthur's jaw was almost touching the ground, as his face was turning a burnt shade of red. Dutch smirked down at him before he left the tent leaving Arthur alone to wonder what the hell had just happened. 

Sitting there for a moment, Arthur quickly grabbed his boots and stumbled out of his tent, as he scrambled to place his hat on properly. As the sun hit his eyes, Arthur moaned in discomfort, as he rubbed his crust covered eyes. His vision was slightly blurred, as he slowly found his way to Mr. Pearson's cooking station from the smell of deer meat and boiled carrots.

Before he could even grab a bowl, his hat was smacked forward blocking his sight, as a hardy laugh filled his ears.

"Mornin' cowpoke," Micah chuckled , as he pushed Arthur aside nearly knocking him over. "Sleep well?"

Arthur attempted to shove Micah back, yet missed due to his lack of vision, "Piss off Micah, ya big jerk."

Micah just chuckled, as he filled his bowl and strutted of while Arthur fixed his hat and spotted the last bowl on the counter. Grabbing his bowl, Arthur stood up on his tippy toes and peeked into the steaming pot which only had a few scrapes left. With a sigh, Arthur turned in Micah's direction and stuck out his tongue, as he realized Micah had hogged more of the stew than he needed.

Foraging the last bits of stew and shredded meat that were left, Arthur tiredly dragged himself to the closest bench where he spotted five year old John Marston. The young boy's head was nodding slowly, as he held a book in his hands almost twice his size till Arthur tapped his shoulder.

"You okay, Johnny?" Arthur asked, as he sat himself next to his adoptive brother; who looked just as tired as he did. "What you got there?"

John looked up at Arthur with an almost confused expression till he looked back at his book and almost whined, "A book."

Dutch always found it funny how John talked and claimed Arthur did the same at that age, but Arthur always shook his head and denied all of it.

Listening, Arthur nodded and took his first spoonful of stew, "What kind of book? Did Hosea give it to you?"

John shrugged, as he flipped through the many pages of words and tiny hand drawn pictures, "Animals," He mumbled, as he pointed to a picture. "What's that?"

Taking another bite, Arthur leaned over John's shoulder and looked at what the young boy was pointing at, "That's-" Arthur nearly choked on his food, as he was quick to cover his mouth before he spoke. "That's a sheep, John."

"Sheep?" John asked, as he looked up at Arthur and tilted his head. "What's that?"

Arthur swallowed his food before he spoke, "A sheep...its....you've seen a goat before, right?"

John nodded.

"Well, image a goat, but....fluffy."

Surprisingly, John giggled which made Arthur smirked, as he continued to eat to stew. It became a sudden cycle, John would point at a picture and asked a question, and Arthur would answer him the best he could they shared a few laughs and made a few jokes; till Arthur's spoon was yanked from his hand.

Both boy's snapped their attention to the figure standing before them who smiled resembled an alley cat who was missing their top lip.

"Well, if it isn't the pity party," Micah teased as he waved the spoon in the boy's direction. "Still can't believe Dutch took you two in instead of putting you out of your misery."

Arthur rolled his eyes and held out his hand, "Give me the spoon, Micah."

Letting out a loud "Hmm," as if he was thinking, Micah scratched his chin with the tip of the spoon, "I don't know...that didn't sound very respectful, little boy. Maybe you should trying asking again with manners."

"Come on you fatty," Arthur hissed, as he stood up in his seat. "I'm hungry give me the spoon."

Micah's smiled suddenly fell, as he looked at his recently increased stomach and glared back at Arthur, "What did you say, boy?"

"Give me back my spoon Micah," Arthur demanded, as he tried to grab it. "Come on!"

"Mr. Morgan!" Hosea's loud voice carried across camp, as the older man marched towards them. "We sit at the table not stand on it. Get down!"

Arthur was quick to listen and returned to his seat, as Micah chuckled.

"S-sorry, Hosea," Arthur mumbled, as his face got red.

"Don't apologize just don't do that. I raised you better than that," Hosea scolded, as he rested his hands on the table. "You could easily fall and crack your head open, you hear me?"

"Yes Hosea, I hear ya."

Micah muffled laughter caught Hosea's attention and earned the laugher a smack at the back of the head, "And you!" Hosea barked, as Micah nearly jumped out of his pants. "Weren't you suppose to go hunting this morning what happened there?"

Micah's mouth opened, but nothing came out.

"Did you at least go to town and grab what Mr. Pearson asked for?"

Micah rubbed the back of his head and cleared his throat, as Hosea rubbed his brow.

"Damn child," Hosea swore, as his hands fell to his hips. "If you don't get out of my sight soon, Micah Bell and do your damn chores we're gonna have a real problem, now get to work!"

Micah growled at Hosea's tone, but didn't have anything to say, as Hosea walked away lighting a cigarette. Arthur couldn't hold back his laughter and neither could John, but they covered their mouths and giggled away.

D-damn you old man," Micah groaned before he shouted. "Damn you!"

"I'm already damned!"

Micah let out a roar of frustration before he glared down at the boy's who were turning purple due to their laughter. Hearing their laughter turned Micah's face red with rage, so he puffed out his chest and stomped his foot.

"Listen here, you little bastards!" Micah snapped, as he smacked his hands on the table, shaking the whole thing. "I may take orders from Dutch and Hosea, but any of you little shits get outta line with me, I won't hesitate to ring up your necks."

"Don't you have chores to do?" Arthur asked, purposefully pushing Micah's button. "You wouldn't want Hosea to beat your ass again, right big brother?"

Without as much as a second thought, Micah tossed Arthur's spoon down hard into the stew sending food flying covering the boy's faces in brown mush. Micah laughed before he walked away victorious.

"You jerk!" Arthur barked, as he used his sleeve to wipe his burning eyes. "I hate you!"

"The feelings mutual, little brother."

After clearing his vision, Arthur turned to John who was happily licking the stew around his mouth. Seeing this made Arthur chuckle at their situation.

"Come on, John," Arthur instructed, as he grabbed onto John's arm to help him out of his seat. "We gotta clean up before Miss Grimshaw sees us."

Without protesting, John grabbed Arthur's hand and followed him, as Arthur directed them to a barrel full of clean rain water with a washing cloth edge off of it. Dripping in stew, Arthur grabbed the cloth dipped it in the water and turned to John who was having a hay day licking himself clean.

Arthur shook his head, "Does nobody feed you, John Marston?"

John stopped licking his arm for a moment and shook his head no.

"What do you mean? You ate this morning, right?"

John shook his head again.

"You didn't eat?"

"Micah took my breakfast," John admitted, as he returned his attention to his delicious arm. "I'm still hungry."

Arthur's fist tighten squeezing some of the water out of the cloth, "That...that...bastard."

Same old Micah stealing people's things and leaving them to fight for themselves with no shame or guilt.

Letting out a sigh, Arthur began washing John's face, but he squirmed and flinched like a snake on a leash. It was the closest thing those boys had to bath in weeks; it was easier when they were younger because they didn't run much, but now Miss Grimshaw's hair was going gray trying to catch those damn Dutch boys. 

Working quickly, Arthur had single handedly cleaned John and himself. With a smile, Arthur ruffled John's greasy hair and directed him back to their breakfast table. As they returned to their seats, Arthur toyed with his spoon before he caught John staring at his bowl. An upsetting feeling hit Arthur's stomach and he wasn't sure if it was guilt or hunger, but seeing John's hungry little eyes answered his question.

"Here," Arthur said, as he gently passed John his bowl. "I'm not hungry so, you can have it."

John's eyes lit up like fireworks in the sky, as he wasted little time slurping down the remaining stew. Seeing John eat reminded Arthur of an aggressive raccoon, the boy's face was covered again in as little as ten seconds, but the belch he let out afterwards was quite impressive for a boy his size.

Arthur hallowed with laughter, as John quickly licked the bowl clean like a hungry dog. Proudly, Arthur patted John's back, as John gave him a smile.

"Thank you," John said, as he wiped the little bit of stew he had on his nose. "That was yummy."

"Not a problem," Arthur laughed, as he tilted his hat over his eyes and leaned back in his seat. "You'll need your strength."

"For what?" John asked, as he scooted closer.

"To pull your weight," Arthur said, as he rested his hands behind his head. "Dutch says we all need to pull our weight."

John tilted his head and looked around, "What weight?"

"Arthur!" Dutch called, startling both boys.

Lifting his hat from his face, Arthur's face slowly turned a sickly white, "Oh dear...I'm in trouble."

"What did you do?" John whispered, as if Dutch could hear him.

"I don't know...something," Arthur shrugged, as he stood from his seat. "But...if I don't come back...you can have my hat."

John just tilted his head at his brother's odd remark, but he stared as Arthur walked towards their towering leader. Dutch van der linde wasn't as intimidating from afar, but once you got closer a whole new fear amerged from within. Like a scolded pup, Arthur's shoulders nearly touched his ears as he waddled like a man with pencils as legs and kept his eyes to the ground. Dutch watched his boy approach him with his hands wrapped around his belt with an intriguing look in his eyes.

Arthur brought himself to a halt just a few steps away from Dutch's boots and slowly lifted his head to meet his leaders eyes. He gulped loudly before faking a toothy grin which Dutch wasn't buying.

"Good morning, Dutch," Arthur said nervously, as his arms were glued to his sides. "H-how are you?"

A corner of Dutch's lips curled up into a grin, as he used his head to indicate the young boy to follow him. Not wanting to protest, Arthur quickly looked back at John before he followed Dutch down to the water's edge. Fearing the worst, Arthur's heart began to race at an alarming rate, as his gaze was locked onto the bottom of Dutch's boots. 

Arthur could hear Dutch's golden chains clicking against his vest and watched as his spurs spun around against the grass, as they walked down to the water. Suddenly, Dutch stopped without warning and Arthur found himself nose first into Dutch gun holster which brought the boy back to reality.

"Be careful there, son," Dutch said, as he placed a hand on Arthur's head. "Are you alright?"

Holding his nose, Arthur nodded and gave a quick thumbs up. Shaking his head, Dutch looked up, "Look at that, Arthur."

Following Dutch's eyes, Arthur noticed the bright colours of the sky. A faint pink was being pushed away by the blue that owned the sky every day, but it was a beautiful sight.

Without speaking, Dutch grabbed Arthur's shoulders and placed the boy in front of him, as they watched the sunset together. Dutch kept his hands on Arthur's shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.

"Isn't it beautiful? The sun always rising from the west, but if a certain someone got up earlier you would of seen the prettiest sunrise," Dutch chuckled, as he shaked Arthur playfully. "But, you didn't want to wake up."

Arthur chuckled and tried to pull away, but Dutch was too strong to run away from, "I was tired, Dutch. I can't wake up early like you old people."

"Old people!" Dutch gasped, as he leaned forward to look down at Arthur. "Did you just call me old?"

Giggling, Arthur covered his mouth and shook his head, "I didn't mean it like that, Dutch."

Dutch's mouth dropped in shock, as he let go of Arthur's shoulder and took a step back.

"I can't believe this, my own son! My own son is calling me old!" Dutch threw his hands around, as if he were covered in bugs and began to pace. "I've been betrayed by my own son, Arthur Morgan how could you?"

Tears built up in Arthur's eyes, as he tried to keep his laughter hidden, but Dutch stomp around brought it all out. Catching Arthur laughing, Dutch stopped in his tracks and watched the tears fall from the boy's eyes, as he laughed. 

"Well, I'm glad you find this funny, Mr. Morgan," Dutch huffed, as he grabbed onto his belt. "Just wait till you get older, boy and we'll see whose laughing then."

Arthur just kept laughing, as he used his clean sleeve to wipe his teary eyes. As his boy continued to laugh, Dutch turned away and let out sigh.

"And to think...I was gonna take you fishing."

That caught Arthur's attention and he stopped laughing pretty damn quick, "What?" He asked, as he turned to Dutch. "Fishing?"

Jokingly, Dutch put his hands on his back, as if he were in pain, "Yeah, I was gonna take you fishing this morning, but...I don't think this old man could do it."

"I was just joking Dutch," Arthur squealed, as he removed his hat from his head. "I didn't mean it."

"You've wounded me, Arthur," Dutch pestered, as he placed his hand over his heart. "Your cruel words have hurt me."

Quickly returning his hat to his head, Arthur dashed over to Dutch and wrapped himself around the older man's leg.

"I'm real sorry, Dutch. Honestly cross my heart."

A sly grin was glued to Dutch's face, as Arthur continued to apologize till his tiny face turned blue. Stopping to catch his breath, Arthur looked up at Dutch and gave him the biggest puppy eyes he could manage. Getting a quick glance, Dutch couldn't keep his joke going seeing such a sight would melt any cold heart.

Finally, Dutch looked down at his dear boy and smiled, "Go get your fishing pole."


End file.
